Something we can rely on
by IaMcHrIsSi
Summary: Mara just wanted to get drinks. Then she met Skywalker, and... well. It's that kind of day.


There are days, Mara thinks, when she almost misses serving under the Emperor.

Key word being almost, of course. It's not like she's forgotten the manipulations, or the torture, or all those chains that she'd only seen once she was free of them. And who could forget Vader's wrath, or the innocents that were murdered for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But some days, she does sort of miss the calm of it. Maybe calm is the wrong word for it. But she does sometimes miss the clear hierarchy of the court, and not having to question orders.

Mostly, honestly, because she's pretty darned sure that she'd never have ended up in _this_ situation if she was still the Emperor's hand.

"Why did we have to go for drinks on this force forsaken rock again?" She asks no one in particular, blocking two blaster shots in quick succession while shooting blindly over the greasy table she's taken refugee under.

"It did seem like a good idea at the time." Skywalker says to her left, sounding infuriatingly calm and controlled even as a part of the roof breaks of and lands not three feet away from them.

Mara rolls her eyes. It's going to be that kind of day, she just knows it.

* * *

Mara had not, actually, planned to go on a mission with Skywalker. Indeed, she wasn't even supposed to be in this sector, much less this star system.

But when Karrde had called her on her free evening, after Mara had just put on the nice music and gotten out the good wine, and asked whether she could do him a favor, Tapper had become ill rather suddenly and this needed to be done rather soon, well, she couldn't really say no, now could she? Not when Karrde asks like that. He is her boss after all. And maybe, maybe, her friend as well. At least sort of.

So, she had agreed, and readied her ship. Not that there was much to do, years of being sort of on the run made for habits that were hard to break, even now, when she has a stable job and does not need to hide anymore.

Karrde had sent her the information about the moon she was supposed to check out, and Mara looked it up. She'd told herself that it wouldn't be longer than a few hours, that figuring out some backwater idiots couldn't possibly be that hard.

If she'd known how this would end, she would have told Karrde to fuck of and drank the wine.

* * *

A sharp Force warning flashes in Mara's mind, and she ducks not a moment to soon. A blaster bolt burns a hole through the chair behind her, exactly where her head had been a second ago. Skywalker more or less blindly sends a force shove towards their attackers, and it sounds as though at least a few of them felt it.

She risks a glance over the table they've been using as a shield. About twenty bounty hunters are still in sight and on their feet, all armed, though some of them are cursing heartily. Some are lying on the floor, maybe dead, maybe just knocked out.

She lets herself fall back to the floor.

"We're screwed." She sighs, checking her blaster charge. The recharge light blinks. Of course it does. She can't have good things, obviously. And of course she left her second blaster in the ship, because this whole thing was supposed to be peaceful. Of course.

* * *

The backwater rock, a small moon circling around a gaseous giant of a planet in a tiny star system in the Outer Rim territories, was populated nominally by a few farmers, but actually mostly used as some sort of haven for smugglers and sometimes even pirates. Mara's people. At least technically.

There were systems set up to alarm the people of anybody new entering the system, but Mara had been working as a smuggler long enough to recognize them, and even if she hadn't, they were not as subtle as the stuff Ghent and a couple of his friends had come up with.

However, things had started to go wrong as soon as she entered the system, with another ship hailing her almost immediately. At first, she'd thought that even with all her care and skill she had been detected by the smugglers, but when she opened the channel, it was Luke Skywalker who smiled at her.

"Greetings, Mara. I haven't seen you in a long time." He said, as though they were meeting in one of the big star ship havens on Coruscant or Corellia instead of this far off system.

"Greetings, Skywalker." She had answered, not suspicious, exactly, given that Skywalker wasn't the type to betray her, but still careful. She remembered the last time she had met him on an Outer Rim world, and how all the crazy stunts she'd been pulled into. She did not want that for today.

"How are you?" He asked, and for a moment, he looked like a farmboy and not like the revered and respected Jedi master. It made him look about ten years younger, and Mara had to admit that it was a good look on him. Not that that mattered. At all. It was simply an … empirical observation.

"Pretty good." She told him, telling herself to stop looking at his smile. "What brings you to this system?" It came out harsher then she had intended it to, but Skywalker kept smiling.

"I was on a diplomatic mission near Krast, in the Outer Rim. Ended up having to fly between Krast and the neighboring planet Ruest quite a few times, and now I need to refuel." He smiled again, looking almost bashful. It was really distracting. Mara took a deep breath and stopped herself from shaking her head.

"Want to meet for drinks? I'm sure there's at least one decent bar on that moon." She wasn't sure why she said it, but technically it was her free day, and catching up with Skywalker could always provide her with interesting and potentially valuable information. At least, that's what she told herself.

* * *

The bounty hunters keep up a steady stream of cover fire, too regular for Mara to not think that they have something different planned. A look at Luke tells her that he's thinking the same thing.

"We could make a break for it?" Skywalker suggests, but he doesn't really sound convinced by the viability of it himself. Mara eyes the various tables around them, but they both know that the only door on the other side of the room, _behind_ the bounty hunters.

"Not likely, at least like this." She answers, and doesn't flinch when a blaster bold strikes so close to her leg that she feels it's heat. She feels her blaster vibrate, and bites back a curse.

"Any chance of back up from your team?" She asks, meaning the New Republic. Not that she'd say no to smugglers or pirates or anyone willing to help them, at this point, but pretty much all of Skywalkers friends are New Republic.

 _Aside from you, a small voice says_. She ignores it.

"Nope. It was just diplomatic stuff, no need for a military back up, and Han and Leia are still on Coruscant, probably playing with the twins right now." He smiles as he says it, fondness for his family so clear on his face that it's almost endearing.

Mara pushes down the urge to groan. This is a nightmare.

* * *

The bar was greasy and sort of creepy, but that was par of the course for smuggler bars of course, and anyway, both Mara and Skywalker had been in way worse bars in their life.

Skywalker smiled at seeing her, which was stupid given that they'd already talked through the com channel. It felt sort of … nice, anyway, which Mara resolutely decided to ignore, because that just seemed like the sort of thing that could complicate her life way more than she'd like.

For a moment, it seemed as though he wanted to hug her, but thankfully he stopped and just sort of flailed his arms for a moment before shaking her hand awkwardly. Mara kind of wanted to look away for a moment, because this whole thing was kind of awkward, but she did not. Neither did he. They just stared at each other.

Finally, she told him to get inside, because they weren't going to get drinks out here, after all. He nodded, and opened the door for her. Always the gentleman, she'd said, and he had rolled his eyes but kept smiling.

* * *

A Twilek jumps between them suddenly. Mara sweeps his legs from under him, and Skywalker finishes him of with the butt of his lightsaber. She sees him reach under his jacket, pulling something small out.

"Didn't realize you still carried a blaster." Mara grinds out and throws her own away, the battery having given out just seconds before. Skywalker hands her his. It's old Rebel issue, she notes.

"A soldier stays a soldier. It's, as an old friend would say, a terribly barbaric weapon, but it's also very useful." He's still smiling. She kind of wants to wipe that smile of his face, but it's also sort of reassuring. Not that she'd ever tell him that.

He points to a hole in the roof that Mara had not seen yet.

"Think we could widen that somehow?" He asks. Mara looks at it critically. The material isn't the best, a lightsaber could most definitively cut through it. The problem will be getting there, though. The bounty hunters are still shooting, after all.

"Any idea of how to distract them long enough?" Mara asks. "Like, grenades or something like that?" She curses herself for not having brought her own, but then again, business deal. Getting attacked had never been part of the plan.

"Left them on my ship, I'm afraid." Skywalker says. He sends another Force shove towards their attackers, annoyingly non lethal. Not that he wouldn't kill them if necessary, she knows he would, but until forced he won't. Which is annoying, because it makes Mara kind of want to do the same, and that's just not practical.

"There is the caf maker over there. If I hit it, it might blow up. Which could give us enough time to cut the roof open." She tells him. Skywalker glances in the direction she's pointing, and nods.

Mara lines up her blaster.

* * *

They had known something was of the moment they had set foot in the bar. Mara wasn't sure if it was her instinct, the Force, or both. Or if it was the same thing.

But they had both known. They had seen the blasters, not unusual for a bar like this, but the looks in the eyes of the patrons were. The fact that the only free table was the one the farthest away from the door. It was not all that subtle, but it also wasn't so overt that Skywalker was deterred from entering the bar and sitting down, anyway.

Mara had glared at him, annoyed and irritated by his clear lack of common sense, but then again, she'd known that about him since the first day, pretty much. He had grinned, and ordered a caf for both of them. At least no alcohol, Mara had thought.

And then, a group of seven beings had entered the bar, not even bothering to pretend that they weren't there to cause trouble, to catch or kill them. They had pulled their blasters immediately, all at the same time.

* * *

The caf maker explodes beautifully, and Mara and Skywalker jump up, cutting the roof open in synch. It's harder than Mara had thought, but finally she feels it giving in. She glances over to the bounty hunters. Most of them are still disoriented, but they're getting back to their feet.

"Let's go." Skywalker says, and attempts to help her get to the roof. She shakes of his hand and instead gives him a lift. That would be the one thing that could make this whole thing worse, to be treated like a damsel in distress in need of a rescue by the Jedi Master.

Mara blocks a blaster bolt, and sends another back to the bounty hunters, and then Luke's hand is reaching down to help her up. She grasps it tightly, and finally manages to disappear through the hole in the roof.

* * *

"The Jedi Master and the Emperor's Hand." One of the bounty hunters, obviously the leader, had growled. "What a catch. We could become rich with those two."

"We don't want any trouble." Luke had said, hands raised in a placating gesture, his voice calm. Mara had discreetly reached for her blaster instead, and checked for her vibro blade.

"We don't want any trouble either." The bounty hunter had growled. "But the Empire and the Republic are the definition of trouble for poor working people like us. Too much trouble for my liking, really Way too much trouble."

"Let's just kill them." Another bounty hunter says, and Mara can see the rest of them agreeing. Skywalker is tensing next to her, and they share a look. Then they kick the table into a defensive position, and well...

That's that.

* * *

They make a run for it once they are out of the bar, racing towards their ships. Skywalker waits for a moment, to make sure that she reaches her ship in time, too, which is weirdly protective and annoying, and maybe kind of sweet. Maybe.

She coms him once they've left the planetary atmosphere.

"You good, farmboy?" She is a smudge of grease on his cheek, and his jacket is ripped at the side, but he's grinning.

"Absolutely. Are you okay?" Mara looks down on herself. Her favorite pair of pants is torn and dirty, but she should be able to fix it. And her hair might be burned at the side. Again.

"No complains." She says. "Do you have enough fuel to get to the next haven?"

"Sure. I didn't want to risk it before, but now... I'll get there, no doubt. What about you? You didn't finish your job." He seems honestly concerned, but Mara just shakes her head. She had almost forgotten about her job, to be honest. Which is unprofessional, but also forgivable, given the circumstances, she thinks.

"Karrde wanted to know whether this moon is a suitable place for an outpost. The answer to that is kind of clear. So... I'm good."

Luke smiles. Mara smiles back. It's awkward, and kind of nice. Mara looks away first.

"Well... I guess... I'll see you around?" Luke asks. He sounds so hopeful that Mara really can't do anything but nod. Only once, though.

"I guess." She says. She'll probably be busy for the next weeks, and anyway, seeing Skywalker is a public health hazard. But... still.

"You still owe me a drink, after all." Luke tells her, and she almost smiles again. Almost.

"Only if you'll take a real drink instead of just some weak ass caf." She tells him, and he beams at her with the power of a full blown sun. Mara wants to roll her eyes, but she also wants to hug him. Which is stupid. She is not going to hug Skywalker, especially not through a com connection.

"I'll call you up when I'm in Coruscant again." She says, and decides that that can't be too bad, right?


End file.
